Maxim (Carolina Reapers 10)

“I like you naked.” The words were slurred.

“Want me to let you go? You sound like you’re falling asleep on me, Evangeline,” I said gently, hating the thought of hanging up.

“No, just…maybe tell me more about your day? I’m so sleepy, but I want to hear more.” It was like we were teenagers, each holding on so they weren’t the one to say goodbye.

I left out the part where my dad had congratulated me on a great game before ripping apart my play in the third, and started with the bus ride after the game, instead. By the time I got to talking about the plane, Evie’s breathing was steady, and she hadn’t spoken in a few minutes.

She was asleep.

“Evangeline?” I whispered.

There was no response.

“Silas thinks I’m falling for you,” I admitted as quietly as possible. “But I’ve never fallen for anyone before, so I’m not really sure how it feels, to be honest. I know I can’t get enough time with you and I know that scares the fucking shit out of me.”

Her breathing stayed soft and rhythmic.

“And I know you’re not a public life girl, but I’m a public life guy, and I’m just hoping we’ll find a way to give you privacy, because I can’t see a single scenario where this thing between us ends by me letting you go.” I sucked in a deep breath and wondered if Asher was right.

Maybe for the first time in my life, I was falling.

And instead of doing the logical thing and hanging up, I hit speakerphone so I could hear the soft exhales of her breathing and put the phone on the pillow next to me.

Then I gave in to the bone-weary tiredness and fell asleep with her beside me.

12

EVIE

“Ohmigod,” I said, my phone pressed to my ear as I stretched out on my bed. “Risotto for lunch between classes?” My mouth watered. “How is that even a thing?”

“That’s Italy,” Mila said, a smile in her tone. “You’ll love it. I can’t wait to bring you back here!”

I rolled over to my back, gazing up at the ceiling as I tried to picture myself in Italy. Usually when I fantasized about traveling, Mila was the first companion that popped into my imagination. But right now? Maxim did.

Maxim and me strolling through Italy, stopping for gelato and pasta and absorbing all the rich artistic history and culture. His arm casually draped around my shoulders as we navigated the new territory, and then of course, a hotel room with a view. A room where we’d lose ourselves in each other.

It’d only been two months since our first kiss, but my mind was already spinning future plans without my permission.

“How is the gallery hunt going?” Mila asked, drawing me back to the present.

“Really well, actually,” I said, happy to focus on anything other than Maxim, because the longer I thought about him, the more terrified I grew of bursting the fantasy bubble I’d somehow fallen into. “I think I found the perfect spot for us in the French Quarter—”

“No freaking way!” Mila sputtered over me.

“Way,” I said, grinning even though she couldn’t see me. “The building is nineteenth century and once housed a little clothing boutique, but it’s been closed for a decade or so. It’ll need some updates, like electrical and plumbing, but it’s nothing we can’t handle. Plus, the French Quarter city market originated around food, crafts, and art, so it’ll be prime placement for us.”

“That sounds like an absolute dream,” Mila said, and my heart expanded in my chest.

“I have a meeting with the landlord next week,” I said. “I’m hoping he’ll be willing to sell it outright to us.”

“Definitely,” she said. “Big goal is to own. I don’t mind renting if it’s a last resort, but I want this to be ours.”

“Same,” I said. “Fingers crossed.”

A little silent pause hung between us before Mila broke it.

“So update me on the X situation.”

I chuckled softly at her name for Maxim, the one she’d given him to ensure she didn’t say ew or gross every time I gave her deets about us.

“Well…” I fumbled around in my mind, trying to find the right words to explain what had happened between us these last few weeks.

“Omigod tell me everything!” I could hear her clap on the other end of the line, and I both cursed and loved my best friend for knowing me so well, for being able to tell that I did in fact have a story even though I’d only said one word.

“You know how I mentioned the good luck kisses?”

“Yes,” she said, an excited energy in her voice.

“They kind of turned into something else.”

“What kind of something?” she gently pushed.

“Well, at first I thought I was solely a means to an end. A good luck charm who happened to be willing and ready to participate in anything he needed to help his game.”